


Reunion

by orphan_account



Series: Reunion [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker
Genre: Family, Father Figures, Fix-It, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7432099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Link knows his days of traveling with the King of Red Lions are over. He knows it, and yet...</p><p>(Fix-It fic for the end of Wind Waker)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> An anonymous commissioner very kindly requested this, and I hope I was able to produce!
> 
> The King and Link deserved a happier ending, didn't they?

Aryll is calling to him again. 

He can hear her clear as a bell, but all he wants more than anything in the world is to go back to sleep. It’s late in the afternoon, he knows, so it’s hardly time for him (or anyone) to be sleeping, but he’s _tired._ He’s been having weird dreams lately. He should have expected this, he supposes. Something about traveling the vast seas with death and destruction around every corner probably changes a person a bit, and dreams are just one of the many side-effects. Some dreams are good, some are bad, and yet others are tinged with a sadness he can’t really describe in words once he’s awake. The one thing they all have in common, though, is that they never fail to wake him in the middle of the night, making it near impossible to fall back asleep again. 

Hence, he’s _napping_. And Aryll is currently trying to _disturb_ that nap. Though it’s not as if she can be blamed. He’s been keeping his sleep troubles to himself, for the most part, hoping they’ll eventually resolve on their own. It’ll just take time. But until then…

“LINK,” she finally gives up her calls of “big brother” and bellows his name to the top of the lookout. She must mean business, which means he’s _really_ in for it now. (Although why she doesn’t just come up _here_ to talk to him is a complete mystery.) So he stands, wobbles a little on still-sleepy feet, and peers over the railing. Except what he finds is…he has to do a double-take, but standing there, clear as day, is—

_No._

It’s another weird dream (it _has_ to be), far worse than all the others. It’s a dream filled with promise, with that singular melancholy wish he’s been holding so dear in his heart. With the thing he regrets most, staring him directly in the face. It must be a cruel, cruel universe to show him such a thing in his mind’s eye. He ducks back down, covers his face, pats his cheeks, shakes his head—anything he can think of in order to try and wake himself up. 

It doesn’t work. _It’s not fair._

And it _isn’t_ fair, because this hurts more than enough when he thinks about it in his waking hours, so why should he have to deal with it in sleep as well? Why couldn’t he dream of Tetra, the crew, Aryll, his grandmother, literally _anyone else_ who had influenced him on his journey? Why did it have to be— 

Then he hears the voice—the voice he was absolutely positive he would never hear again in his life. A voice that is long gone, lost under the sea forever. And yet here it is, and every kindly spoken word tightens the noose around his heart.  
  
“Link, come down here please. It’s alright.”

But it’s not alright. How can _he_ , of all people, try to convince him that this is alright? How could this _ever_ be alright? Even this dream version shouldn’t dare be so terrible as to promise him such a thing.

But Aryll—or rather, dream-Aryll—is having none of it. “Big brother, come _on_ , he said he came all this way to see you! He’s very kind and patient, but you can’t hide up there forever! Especially not from such an important guest! He wants to talk to you!”

He knows he has to face this in order to get this dream—no, _nightmare_ —over with. Sooner or later, something weird or startling enough to wake him will happen, and he’ll have proven himself right again. So he stands, looks down once more, and (despite promising himself he wouldn’t cry) feels his eyes already beginning to well over with tears. Why does it have to be _this?_

Shockingly, dream-Daphnes’ eyes have a faint shimmer to them as well as he smiles up at the boy in the tower. “Come down. I had to—I needed to see you and speak to you once more.” With his arms outstretched and the soft, almost pleading tone to his voice, how could Link possibly say no? So he forces back his tears, telling himself to push through whatever his mind has decided to throw at him today, and descends the ladder.

Where he is immediately rushed towards, two large hands gripping his shoulders just long enough to get a good look at him before the King pulls him into a tight hug. 

Wait, this isn’t…

“It’s real,” said as if Daphnes had just read his mind, and a bit like he doesn’t even believe it himself. “I never thought I’d see the day, I never thought—” he chokes on his own words, tears filling his voice, but Link is too focused on the sensation of being hugged. It’s real. It’s _too_ real. He can feel the silky fibers of the King’s shirt, the pointy edges of his belt buckle, and—his heartbeat. There’s a heartbeat. Link can hear his heart pounding away in his chest, like some sort of drum. It’s fast—out of excitement or nervousness or some combination of the two, but it’s _there_. So maybe this isn’t… _what if_ it isn’t…it couldn’t possibly be… 

But his mind has already entertained the thought and decided what it wants, and whether it _is_ real or not, he flings his arms around his formerly deceased father figure and clings to him like the world is ending. 

Maybe the world  _is_ ending.

It takes him a moment to realize that _he’s_ crying now too, big sobs that shake his entire frame, but the King only pulls him closer for it, lifting him off his feet in his enthusiasm at their reunion. Though Link has been back on Outset Island for a little more than a week—just to visit his family, mind you—this is the first time and place since the conclusion of his journey that he has truly felt at _home_ again. 

Aryll has returned—he hadn’t even noticed she’d left—with a handkerchief for each of them. Smart girl. She’s always been smart. He would normally be embarrassed to cry like this in front of her, but most of his brain processes have been taken over by uncontrollable joy (and the aforementioned crying). He can’t really see the King through the tears, but he’s sure both of them must look an absolute mess, and he’s thankful to have such a perceptive and thoughtful sister.

He accepts one cloth, the King takes the other, and it’s a laughable moment as the two of them step away long enough to mop up tears and blow their noses (more than once) before either is even remotely presentable again. And then there’s more crying between the laughter, which only leads the process to repeat itself again.

There’s an obvious question that needs asking and answering, but Aryll, in all her wisdom, beats both of them to the punch. “King Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule, sir, my brother said you were…it made him really upset to talk about it, but you stayed behind, didn’t you? You sort of…”

Daphnes looks slightly sheepish, which isn’t exactly the kind of expression Link would have expected on someone just miraculously returned from the dead—yet here he is. “I had—well, you know what my wish was for, obviously. Because I made my wish for the greater good, as any leader would and should have done in that situation, so we were sunken forever. But in my heart I held a wish for…something like this, I suppose. For the chance to return to the surface and see you again, and to tell you how much it meant to… It’s been so long since I’ve known such happiness, and my small wish was selfish, but it was still heard somehow, and…” He stops himself, looking distraught. “I’m sure my showing up here unexpectedly must bring you a lot of pain, and I am sorry for that. It was a desire born of sentiment at the time, and I had no idea it would actually come true. Still, I should have considered—”

Link shakes his head and grips the King’s hand tightly, effectively silencing him. Tears notwithstanding, he wouldn’t trade any of this for anything in the world. He needs so many answers, though. The biggest one of all being, _why?_

Aryll seems to take this as her cue to leave—she’s always been emotionally sensitive like that. Link again feels a swell of gratitude towards his bright little sister.

Wordlessly, they set off to watch the waves on the beach. It seems the most natural place to go—most of their time spent together had been on the water, after all. Link leads his companion by the hand, too high on cloud nine to even consider letting go. It’s _warm_ , and _real_ , and he can feel the faint flutter of a heartbeat when he squeezes tightly. He just has to reassure himself every few minutes that all this is really happening. They sit right in the sand, the King apparently not minding getting his regal clothing a little gritty (and Link completely comfortable with dirtying his clean clothes, at this point). With just an inquiring look, the King asks his permission to pull him in closer (as if Link would ever say no), and Link revels in the comfort of the strong arm wrapped around his shoulders.

It’s a sensation he never thought he’d experience in the rest of his lifetime. 

He has more questions than he can count, but finds he doesn’t even have to voice them as Daphnes begins to speak.

“As I said, it was selfish to me to come here—” Link shakes his head vehemently, but the King shushes him, continuing, “I had no idea what your reaction would be. Whether you would be angry with me for not finding you sooner, whether you might have moved on and would become upset if I tried to dredge up the past, or whether you wouldn’t want to see me at all. I considered all the potential situations on my way here, and I was prepared for the worst-case scenario when I arrived.” 

Link is mildly horrified that the King thought there might be a chance he would have pushed him away, but remains silent as he continues to speak.

“Despite that, I’m—it’s a strange mixture of emotions I can’t quite explain. I’m thankful you wanted to see me as well, but I also feel a great sorrow with the knowledge that my departure caused you such anguish. By coming here, I didn’t want to reopen a wound that was already beginning to close. I—I can hardly begin to imagine the horror I would have felt had I thought such a fate had befallen you,” his eyes widen for a moment, staring off into the distance as he runs the scenario though his mind. His grip across Link’s shoulders tightens for a moment until the image passes.

He lets out a long sigh. “Well, that’s all in the past now, I suppose. I’m not always very good with words of expression, and I’m still not sure exactly how my selfish wish slipped out, but I can only imagine it was simply meant to be. Perhaps, just so I could have the chance to tell you this…” he takes a deep breath, “Over the course of our journey, you became like a son to me. I had experienced tragedy and resolved myself to never get too attached again to another living being. But then there was _you,_ and you were…persistent, even if you didn’t quite realize at the time the effect you had on me. It took a while for me to come to recognize it as well. I grew to love you as if you were my own flesh and blood. And…I think that’s why I am here. To let you know, and to thank you for teaching this old man—or boat, as I was—to love again. So thank you, Link, for that and for the thousand other joys you have brought me just by being yourself.”

This is a lot of information to process all at once. Link isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say or do now. Or how he’s supposed to feel. To hear that he’s had such an impact on someone without even knowing it at the time…he’s honestly in awe. He almost wants to cry again, but isn’t even sure where to begin with _that_.

Luckily, Daphnes seems to understand, and allows for a moment of quiet reflection before he moves on to the next subject that has clearly been weighing upon his mind.

“If I am completely honest with you, now that my mission, ah—so to speak, has been fulfilled, I am not sure exactly what happens next.”

Link immediately feels a moment of intense horror, wondering if the wish will wear off now that things are through. He braces himself for a bright flash of light, a loud noise, or a slow fade-away, a disintegration—anything that would indicate the King’s departure from this earthly realm. What is he going to do, after such a brief reunion, if this person he cares for so deeply is ripped from his hands once again?

But then nothing happens, and Daphnes continues to speak, and he thanks all the powers that be for every little thing he can possibly think of.

(But especially for allowing him to meet the King of Red Lions.)

Realizing he’s been caught up in his own thoughts for too long, he tunes back in to what the King is saying “—I should like to meet the rest of your family, with your permission—you mentioned a grandmother? I’m sure she must be so proud to have raised a grandson like yourself…” he looks away, caught up in memories of his own for a minute, before finally, “But after that, I will need someplace to stay, hopefully permanently. A new home, I suppose you could say. I’ve had enough of sea travels for two lifetimes, and I thought, since Outset Island is so beautiful, and if it wouldn’t be too much of an intrusion, perhaps I might—”

As if he needs _any_ time at all to process that particular thought. 

A nod so hard it almost hurts his neck, but Link knows what he’s about to suggest and can’t possibly think of anything he’d like more in the world. He wants to _stay_. Through his own will, out of all the places in the world he could choose to now become a part of, he’s going to _stay_. The relief of that thought alone is enough to bring more tears to his eyes, and before he knows what’s happening, he feels himself being lifted and planted squarely in the King’s lap.

He would normally protest at being treated like a young child, especially given his recent worldly experience. But, as he scrubs stubborn tears from his eyes, he figures this is probably okay, just this once.

(Besides—given the circumstances, he feels an awful lot like a lost child reunited with a missing parent, anyway.)

So they sit there for a while like that, in happy, companionable silence. The King, glad to have someplace new to call home, and Link, mind full of a million different emotions—some of them happiness, others, love, and most of them, gratitude. 

Inevitably, however, Link feels himself beginning to drift off. (He _had_ been sleeping before this, after all, and crying is certainly a more exhausting activity than any others he can think of _._ ) He imagines sleeping here would be the best and most comfortable place in the world—surely the strange dreams couldn’t get at him, wrapped up in this embrace. But he wants to remember every second of this, to hold onto this feeling forever. The little piece of his heart that had been torn from him in the King’s last moments is finally beginning to heal, leaving a warm, glowing feeling in his chest.

But it’s amazing what feeling warm and safe and comfortable can do to an already tired and emotionally-taxed mind, and he finds he’s losing his battle with sleep rather quickly.

Daphnes huffs a small laugh when he realizes what’s happening, breaking him out of his momentary doze. “I believe I interrupted your afternoon nap with my arrival. Perhaps I should deliver you to your home?”

Link nods, just because it sounds like the most reasonable course of action (they certainly can’t stay _here_ all night, as much as he would like that), and prepares himself to stand and lead the way. What he _isn’t_ prepared for is to be lifted off the ground and cradled to the King’s chest like a small child. He gasps, startled, but quickly realizes this is _much_ more preferable to having to drag his exhausted body back to the house.

Maybe being treated like a child just a _little_ bit isn’t so bad after all.

“Which way is it?” Daphnes asks. 

Link cracks open an eye long enough to get his bearings, then points to his house in the not-so-far distance. The King finds this funny, evidently, because he laughs a little, carrying his small burden off the beach and up to the tiny house. Though Link is drowsy, he notes (and appreciates) the careful steps Daphnes takes on the worn dirt path to avoid jostling him as they approach the front door. 

He doesn’t even have to knock, because Aryll is standing on the front porch, eagerly awaiting their return. In fact, she’s almost bouncing in her excitement to introduce the man whom she has already decided is the newest member of their strange little family. 

She opens the door and bounds inside, eager to explain the situation. “Grandma, this is Link’s friend, King Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule!” she throws out her arm in a grand proclamation. The King chuckles at her insistence upon using his full title. Link snuggles closer to the deep rumble of laughter in his chest. “He came back! He made a wish and now he’s back!”

“I had a feeling something good was going to happen today,” their grandmother pauses to take a look at the three of them, then a smile crosses her face as she winks. “I made elixir soup for a reason, you know.”

Link is _immediately_ awake for that, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> Come shout at me, scream headcanons at me, (or even better yet, commission me!) at smolhero on tumblr. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!


End file.
